


Making Adjustments

by melenafrey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melenafrey/pseuds/melenafrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian adjusts to life outside of Tevinter (and losing his parents' financial support) and encounters many things he didn't expect. He certainly didn't expect to  befriend a qunari whom he meets while taking public transportation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Adjustments

Dorian sighed to himself. The subway was dirty and cramped, and he was definitely not used to sharing his Wednesday morning commute with so many other people. It was the first week he’d had to suffer without his beautiful car, and public transportation was--while a romantic idea--ultimately disappointing.

An elven woman bounced a crying baby on her knee, shushing him desperately. A couple of dwarves sat side by side arguing, gesticulating wildly. A few human twenty-somethings kept laughing at nothing. They were probably high on something, though why they would be stoned at seven AM was beyond him.

Dorian looked up as they giggled at a hastily scrawled penis done in sharpie on the wall. Yes, definitely high.

Dorian crossed his arms and glared at his feet, wishing fervently he’d never had to sell the car. He was angry. It was too early to be up and traveling across the city but the university library finally had the book he’d been looking for, and his thesis was due next week. Though really, if his parents were going to fully cut him off as they’d suggested the last time he saw them, his education was a moot point anyway. And it was looking more and more likely he wouldn’t be able to maintain a decent relationship with them.

Felix, bored in the hospital he was currently residing in, had tried repeatedly to give him advice about keeping a cooler head and making it work until he could be financially independent, but Felix was a much more patient soul than he. And keeping his desires locked away while he tried to be the son they wanted was a lot more difficult than he had originally thought.

He was startled by the sudden loud thumping of boots on the floor in front of him. He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the car stopping, but it would have been very difficult for him to miss the giant qunari sitting down heavily across from him. A one-eyed qunari, in fact, wearing a t-shirt so tightly fitted it may as well not have been there at all. He was simply massive--arms bulging in the sleeves almost too tight to contain them, thighs thick and nearly taking up two seats, giant horns on his head threatening to accidentally stab the passengers on either side of him. He was so huge it almost made one wonder about the size of...other things. Or it might, if one was turned on by all that bulk. Which Dorian most certainly wasn’t. It was just natural, to be curious.

Dorian averted his gaze as soon as the giant creature noticed him looking. He glanced back up as soon as he thought it was safe to continue his not-really-blatant staring. The qunari was looking up at the ceiling, arms crossed, mouth pursed in a thin line. Maybe he was lost in thought as Dorian had been. Maybe he was trying to read whatever was written on the ceiling there. Or maybe he was tired, on the verge of falling asleep.

No, not falling asleep; he kept stealing glances back at Dorian too often for that. Dorian had to keep tearing his gaze away quickly to avoid meeting his eyes. Or, eye, he mentally corrected, noting the eye patch.

What was someone like him doing on the subway so early? Dorian openly ogled his biceps as his imagination went to work. Perhaps he was a stripper? He was certain he’d make a lot of money that way--because, you know, some people probably liked that kind of look. Maybe he was in a gang? He’d probably lost that eye during a fight. He looked pretty capable. Maybe he was a drug lord. Or a contract killer!

Dorian blushed as the qunari met his intense stare. Then--to his surprise--he winked. Or blinked with the eye he had. Whichever. The smile on his face suggested it was meant to be flirtatious, though--a wink, then.

Dorian glanced back up quickly at the sound of laughter. His eye crinkled at the corner and his lips curled in a smile just as big as the rest of him. Now, how on earth did that work? He had looked so intimidating and unapproachable a few moments ago, and now...now Dorian just wanted to sit in his lap and touch...well, any part of his body, really. He wasn’t picky.

He felt his cheeks grow even warmer as the man laughed, certain it was at him. He could feel the burn of the man’s stare focused on him and it made him profoundly uncomfortable, even though it was a little hot. Actually, probably _because_ it was a little hot.

He was equal parts grateful and disappointed when he could finally get off at the university stop.

 

Dorian would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been hoping to run into that fellow again. That didn’t mean he was ready to have any sort of intelligent conversation with him, though--it was still an ungodly hour and he felt half-dead, having drank himself into a stupor rather than actually confront his problems like the adult he was supposed to be. When the giant stepped in his line of sight he could just feel his face growing hot with the half-remembered echoes of every dirty thought he’d had about him the last time he’d seen him.

_Get ahold of yourself, Dorian,_ he ordered himself sternly. _It is seven in the morning, much too early to be fighting off an erection._ And no, he wasn’t actually there yet, but he wanted to keep it that way.

He had resigned himself to a few stops of subtle glances and wistful ogling when the giant--sitting two seats away on his right, this time--suddenly spoke.

“We’re not really going to do this again--just stare at each other when the other person isn’t looking until you have to get off--are we?”

Dorian immediately felt the flush all the way down to his toes, but managed a disdainful look at the man. Ignoring the charming smirk and flattering dark stubble decorating his jaw, he raised an eyebrow. “Any _staring_ you think you may have seen was likely just...wishful thinking on your part.”

“See, I was gonna tell myself that,” the man said, grinning, “but I started noticing the way your face would turn pink like that every time you thought I saw you, and I figured my assumption was actually a pretty good one.”

“My, you’re confident,” Dorian returned dryly.

“I’m just good at reading people, though you didn’t really make it very hard for me.”

Dorian spluttered, searching for something snarky enough to be an acceptable response. “Well--what on earth did you have in mind for us, then, if not _just_ some harmless ogling?”

“I thought maybe I could at least get your name,” the qunari admitted.

“Why?” Dorian fired back.

“I would have regretted it later if I hadn’t made an attempt.” Dorian didn’t know what to say--it had been a while since he had been so openly flirted with, and the last time had not been at seven in the morning on a subway, with unpleasant glaring lights that not only showed you the person’s face, but every flaw they possessed. He could not shake the sudden flare of self-consciousness, imagining how sallow and sickly he must look.

“If it helps,” the qunari cut in, interrupting his thought, “mine is the Iron Bull.”

“The Iron Bull,” Dorian found himself echoing back in disbelief. “That’s, erm. Quite the title. Better than most names I hear from qunari, though, I suppose.”

“And you get a lot of qunari's names, do you?” Iron Bull asked, his nose wrinkling.

“No,” he admitted, and Iron Bull laughed.

“Alright, but I still don’t know your name.”

Dorian pondered not giving it to him, but quickly dismissed the idea. “Dorian. Of House Pavus. Most recently of Minrathous.”

He regretted coming off so pompously when Iron Bull snorted. “And you said _mine_ was quite the title.”

Dorian sniffed. “I wouldn’t have offered anything up if I knew I was just going to be mocked.”

“What did you think I was going to say?”

Dorian turned to face him and found himself at a sudden loss for words. He felt the jolt of the car as it came to stop, and hastily gathered his things.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” he said, huffily, “but I’m afraid this is my stop.”

“See you next time,” Iron Bull called to his back. “Dorian.”

Dorian waggled his fingers in a lazy gesture of farewell, and hid his smile from other passersby as best he could--which was not particularly well.

 

"So. Dorian."

Dorian raised his brows in silent question. The Iron Bull was again sitting across from him. He was leaning forward, shoulders hunched, and elbows propped on large thighs.

Dorian sighed loudly for dramatic effect. "Yes?"

"What's a guy like you doing on the subway this early?"

Dorian sniffed. "I could ask the same of you."

"My usual ride isn't available," he offered, smile confident.

Dorian crossed his arms. "Neither is mine," he returned coolly.

The Iron Bull nodded, accepting his snarky answer as though it were sincere.

They both sat in the silence for a moment before the Bull spoke again.

"So--what if we had met somewhere other than the subway at 7 in the morning?"

"What if? What is the _point_ of that question?" Dorian repeated.

"Would you have spoken to me more?"

"I'm speaking to you now," Dorian said suspiciously. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are getting at."

"Maybe we should arrange to meet somewhere else," the Iron Bull said. "If I'm reading you right, you're more than a little interested."

"You--why--I--" Dorian found himself unable to finish any of the sentences he had tried to start. He was fully aware that he was no longer in his homeland, and that things were different here, but for a man--a qunari, at that--to just come out and say such things so openly--well.

He ignored his flushed cheeks and cleared his throat. "You are mistaken," he finally ground out, avoiding the qunari's gaze.

"Alright." Dorian looked back up at him, surprised at the amiable tone. "No hard feelings?" His one eye stared back at Dorian, gaze penetrating. He wondered if he could see right through his pathetic lie.

Dorian swallowed, the sound unbearably loud in his ears.

"No hard feelings," Dorian echoed.

"Good." The Iron Bull nodded slowly, and looked away, eye fixing on something written on the wall behind him.

Dorian felt strangely disappointed, but there was no respectable way to retract his negative answer without coming off as weird or desperate. That wasn't really what he wanted anyway, right? A qunari. Maker if that wasn't the worst idea he had ever heard.

He stood up reluctantly when the car came to his stop. He stumbled as a big hand gently touched his arm.

"Here," The Iron Bull pressed a piece of paper in his hand. Dorian faltered, hand slow to grip in the face of the Iron Bull's kind smile. "In case you change your mind."

Dorian did his best not to let his elation show on his face. "You wish," he sneered, but it clearly lacked his usual heat because the Iron Bull just laughed as he exited the car.

Dorian spent the short walk to the university deliberating over whether or not to toss the scrap of paper to ground. He could not seem to forget the sound of the booming laugh that had followed him off the subway, and though loath he was to admit it affected his decision, he _did_ stuff the paper into his pocket instead. He tried not to think much about it.

 

On his way back home, he decided it had been too long since he had spoken to Felix. He dialed the number, the question of how he had been doing since he got out of the hospital ready on his tongue.

“I’m fine, Dorian,” he answered. “But is that really why you called?”

“I can’t just call to check up on you?” Dorian said innocently into his phone, balancing it between his chin and shoulder while he dug into his bag for money for the subway (it still rankled to think of how far he had fallen, and how much further he could _still_ fall if his parents withdrew all their support).

“Sure you can,” Felix responded, snarky. “But it’s out of character. Normally you text. And if you’re _really_ worried, you come visit. Or at least I can hear the concern in your voice.”

“Alright, fine, so maybe I was going to ask you for advice.”

“There we go.” Dorian could hear the amusement in his tone clearly. Felix loved to tease Dorian about how incapable of he was of being subtle, but it was easy enough to read Felix if you knew him as well as he did. And so what if he wasn’t very subtle. He could be when the situation called for it. He liked to indulge himself in dramatics when it didn’t, what was wrong with that?

“What did you want to ask me? Have your parents done anything else?”

“No, thankfully,” Dorian said with evident relief. “Not yet, anyway. It’s do to with something else.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense! What is it?”

“Alright, so there’s this man I met on the subway--”

Felix started laughing.

“ _What.”_

“Oh, just something I never thought I would hear you say.”  
Dorian sighed. “Yes, yes. Dorian Pavus takes the subway. Go ahead, laugh it up.”

“I mean, I do feel bad.” He paused. “But it _is_ kind of funny.”

“Maybe I will be able to appreciate the irony someday,” he said dryly. “For now, though.”

“Yes. A man you met? What on earth do you need my advice for?”

Dorian sighed, waiting for the subway to stop so he could get in. “Well he gave me his number earlier--”

“What’s that--is that noise the subway now? Why are you calling me, you might run into him!”

Dorian chuckled. “I’ve never seen him going home, only getting up early in the morning. And anyway, here’s the best part--he’s a _qunari.”_

Felix whistled. “Nice. That’s one way to stick it to your father.”

Dorian made an exasperated noise. “I’m sure he would hate it, yes. But...I don’t know, that’s not really a good enough reason to do it.”

“That hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

Dorian sighed, sitting down heavily in a seat far away from any other passengers. “Yes, but...Maker, it almost sounds like you actually think I should sleep with him!”

“Do you want to sleep with him?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well,” Felix said seriously, “sounds like I can’t help you.”

“Felix--”

“Look, you left to get away from your parents, but you left to get away from Tevinter too. I thought you wanted to leave behind the bigots and their ideals."

Dorian just sighed, rubbing at his temple with his free hand.

“If you genuinely don’t want to, then don’t. But don’t stop yourself just because you feel like you should. Or because of some silly prejudice you are just now realizing you have.”

Dorian blew another exasperated breath. “Felix, I don’t think--”

“Yes, you do. You’re _over_ thinking this, in fact.”

“Probably,” Dorian admitted tiredly.

“I just want you to be happy, you know,” Felix offered. He sounded pretty tired himself, and Dorian was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt.

“I know,” he said miserably.

“Oh, don’t sound go feeling bad on me now,” Felix teased. “You asked me for advice and I gave it to you. Do what you want with it.”

“Yes--thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Dorian could hear the worry creeping into his tone, and Felix of course heard it too.

“Yes, I’m just a little tired. Honestly, Dorian, don’t worry.”

“You know I will regardless,” Dorian said weakly.

“I know.” Felix’s voice was warm. Dorian missed him terribly, and suddenly missed home terribly as well. “We’ll talk soon, alright?”

“Take care of yourself,” Dorian enunciated.

“Yes, you too.”

Dorian hung up and shoved his phone away, staring out the window. He already had plans for the evening in the form of a bottle stashed in his cupboard; that ought to get rid of the lingering feelings of guilt.

  


Dorian didn't get on the subway the next Wednesday morning. He didn't need to go to school because he was waiting to hear feedback about his thesis before he could really move forward. He could have gone in to do more work--Maker knew he should have--but he was at a tricky part in research anyway; he didn't much feel like trying to get past it today.

Plus, he had been feeling a little off besides. Headachy and nauseous, and alright, _yes,_ perhaps hungover. Drinking to lose himself, to forget the disappointed looks and frequent mentions of the family legacy from his father, to forget all the expectations and the way his life was _meant_ to go--well. It wasn't exactly a long-term solution. It had done well enough last night, but life became more difficult in the end if he dealt with it that way every time he felt empty and sad.

Maybe there was another way he could lose himself.

He had taken the scrap of paper from his pocket a few days ago and thrown it away, only to dig out of the waste basket the next morning. He threw it away a second time, but only after putting it into his contacts. Now he laid in bed, toying with his phone, wondering whether or not to text the qunari.

He wanted to but the nervous anticipation in his belly was marred by fear, a persistent and slinking feeling that seemed to increase the pounding in his head and made him feel like retching. Felix’s words rang in his head too, making him rethink his original decision not to contact Iron Bull. But he didn’t really want to think about Felix right now.

He got up once the harsh sunlight made him wince, and closed the curtains before stumbling into the bathroom to void his stomach. He sent a quick missive to the Bull before he could change his mind, and stumbled back into bed.

He woke a few hours later to a reply.

_Still interested in talking?_ _7:45 AM_

_Thinking about me first thing in the morning, eh?_ _7:56 AM_

_Don't flatter yourself. I was simply letting you know that I am still alive, since I was not there to grace you with my physical presence._ _10:01 AM_

_Thank the Maker. I was worried sick_ _10:18 AM_

_Of course you were. It's only natural. I'm the only decent company on that entire subway, let alone the one car._ _10:23 AM_

_And anyway, I didn't think the qunari believed in the Maker._ _10:25 AM_

_I don't know if I would go that far, but I did notice you were gone. And it's a figure of speech._ _10:30 AM_

_I see._ _10:40 AM_

_So. I'm assuming you changed your mind._ _10:42 AM_

_...yes. Time/place?_ _10:47 AM_

_You get right to business, don't you._ _10:50 AM_

_It usually pays to be efficient._ _10:53 AM_

_You're eager. That's hot._ _10:56 AM_

_Maker, are we doing this or not?_ _10:57 AM_

_You know where the Herald's Rest is?_ _10:59 AM_

_Yes._ _11:00 AM_

_There,_ _tomorrow night_ _._ _11:02 AM_

_Time?_ _11:03 AM_

_How about nine_ _11:04 AM_

_That's fine._ _11:04 AM_

_Nice rhyme ;)_ _11:05 AM_

_Ugh_ _11:07 AM_

 

Dorian arrived at the bar a few minutes late. He didn't want to come off any more desperate than he already had. He adjusted his jacket, fussing a little with the zipper before forcing himself to quit fidgeting. Fidgeting was not attractive.

He caught sight of the illustrious Iron Bull right away, sitting at the bar. He was chatting with the bartender, a pretty redhead with the nicest breasts he had ever seen. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, of course. He didn't have any other sort of appreciation for them.

The Iron Bull grinned widely when he saw him and waved him over.

"Dorian, hey," he greeted him enthusiastically.

Dorian couldn't help the self-satisfied smile he sported as he gracefully sat beside the Bull.  "Hello," he said, aiming for something between prim and slightly flirtatious.

"What kept you from the subway yesterday morning, if I might be so bold?"

Dorian felt a curl of lust in his stomach at the low, intimate tone, heating his abdomen and groin. The bar was dark and loud, and no one would notice two men wedged right in together, shoulders brushing and heads bent close to better hear each other.

"You may, though I may not be inclined to answer truthfully," Dorian said coyly, to the man's loud bout of laughter.

Dorian ordered a drink, and so did the Iron Bull. They talked, and ordered another drink. Another. Dorian couldn't remember the last time he had been more eager for sex, and Maker, but what a man the Iron Bull was. So huge, powerful, strong. Those large horns something inviting to grasp in the heat of passion, the huge barrel chest something firm to lean against, those thick thighs, something else thick and inviting nestled between them.

"Hey." Dorian looked up, eyes round and dark with desire. The Iron Bull looked to be in a similar state. "Let's get out of here."

 

The Iron Bull unlocked his front door. Dorian stepped through cautiously, suddenly feeling uncomfortably close to sober. The Iron Bull placed his huge hands on Dorian's waist. They dwarfed him absolutely; Dorian felt small and entirely at this qunari's mercy. The Iron Bull bent to kiss him, and he kissed back passionately, making use of his tongue and teeth and doing his level best to mark the Iron Bull. He may just have the one night with him, but he would _remember_ him, damn it.

Iron Bull drew back, and kissed the side of Dorian's mouth almost chastely. Dorian bit the Iron Bull's lower lip savagely, and he responded with a growl that conveyed more arousal than annoyance.

"Let's not forget what this really is," Dorian suggested acidly.

"So be it." The Iron Bull moved so quickly Dorian didn't see it coming--suddenly hands were gripping his thighs and picking him up. He wrapped his legs around the Bull and kissed him deeply, and let himself be carried off.

 

The Iron Bull sensed his impatience once in the bedroom and jerked him off on top of the sheets. Dorian arched and came so fast he ought to be embarrassed, but couldn't find it within himself. He didn't have the time, anyhow; he crawled over the Bull once he laid on the bed and kissed and bit and scratched and sucked him off until he found himself hard once more. The Bull made delicious noises when he came. It only made Dorian hungry for more.

The Bull returned the favor gladly after he basked in the afterglow a few moments. Dorian whimpered as the Bull's beard tickled his sensitive inner thighs. He came again, and collapsed in the bed beside the qunari, senses dulled pleasantly from orgasm.

"Close your eyes for a bit," the Bull rumbled, huge hand brushing his neck. Dorian shivered. "You'll want to be ready for the next round."

Dorian did want. So he closed his eyes.

 

He blinked and opened his eyes to an unfamiliar room. He tensed, ready to panic, until he sensed something stroking his side. He stretched, and blinked slowly through his lashes at the Bull. Ah, yes, he remembered now.

The Bull's face crinkled into a sweet smile. "Hey, big guy. Have a nice nap?"

Dorian found himself nodding, stretching again languidly. The Bull stilled his big hand, letting it rest on Dorian's hip. "Good."

The room was warm, and the Bull's hand was heavy and comforting on his body. He ought to leave. He ought to count this as a success and get up now, get dressed, and leave.

"So. I'm thinking we might try something different for the next go."

Dorian smiled alluringly. "What did you have in mind?"

The Bull looked at him solemnly. "I want to make sure you're up for it."

"Oh, I assure you I'm up for nearly anything," Dorian drawled.

"If you find that you're not," the Bull told him, fingers curling around Dorian's hip. "You say 'katoh'. And we stop, no questions about why if you don’t wanna answer ‘em. Do you understand?"

Dorian felt a thrill in his stomach. He should be scared. Intimidated by what the Bull might do to him in this bedroom on this night where no one knew exactly where he was.

"I understand," he murmured.

"Say the word for me?" The Bull asked, voice rough.

"Katoh," Dorian whispered.

"Just like that." Bull's hands grasped his wrists. Dorian swallowed.

 

“So, I did sleep with him.”

“Good morning to you too,” Felix said faux-cheerfully. “Not that I’m not ecstatic, but--”

“Sorry,” Dorian sighed dramatically, “Hello, Felix. I slept with the qunari, I thought you might be interested in hearing about it.”

“I am,” he agreed. “Was it everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”

Dorian coughed, feeling his face heat up slightly. “It was...an experience.”

Felix laughed. “That good, huh? I’m glad. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Dorian said dryly.

“Are you going to do it again?”

“Maker, no. I mean...the once was enough. I’m sure he was just interested in the one time, and, well, so was I.”

“So that’s it, huh?” Felix sounded skeptical.

“That’s it,” said Dorian firmly. “Now, tell your father he needs to get back on me on the changes to my thesis--the original proposal may have been better and I’d like his opinion.”

 

Despite Dorian's best intentions, that was, in fact, _not_ it. He continued to run into the Bull a few mornings a week on the subway, and they flirted mercilessly even though the ungodly hour and harsh lighting should have deterred any desire he may have had.

He texted Bull some nights when he wanted some fun, or a way to forget his troubles, or both. The Iron Bull's particular brand of making him forget was... _very_ effective.

 

They sort of forgot to strictly stick to business, though. Dorian did, anyway. He couldn’t say whether or not the Bull really cared much about keeping everything else separate. He found himself taking his time to have another round or two, _every time._ And while he made sure to always sleep in his own bed (with the exception of the catnap he’d taken the first night) he lingered in the Bull’s bed longer than necessary. He wanted to, _meant_ to, dissuade Bull from the more sentimental or sweet gestures he would perform--like cleaning him up afterwards so intimately, or kissing him softly on the forehead, or the soft touches to his hair--but he just couldn’t bring himself to say “stop”.

As if that wasn’t enough, they actually _talked_ to each other, something Dorian _really_ hadn’t been expecting. He didn’t expect it from married couples, much less from fuck-buddies, but there wasn’t much about him and the Bull that could be classified as usual. And, he supposed, his views on relationships might be a tad skewed considering his primary role models.

He did want to know more about the Bull but somehow he always spent time talking about himself, and the Bull encouraged it, with soft smiles and questions and by generally being his ridiculous, inviting self.

Bull knew he was a PhD student, that he took the subway after he’d been forced to sell his car, that he had been taking his sweet time with school until he had been abruptly cut off financially, and was now scrambling to finish things before his parents decided they would stop sending in checks for school as well as for food and rent.

Bull would always pay attention so thoughtfully, and Dorian had never felt so listened to. The Iron Bull actually cared about the things he had to say--or was good at pretending, anyway. He tried not to hope too much for the former.

“So, why do you and your parents fight so much?”

Dorian snorted. “They don’t care much for my choices.”

The Bull paused. “Your _choices_?”

“Yes,” he sniffed. “That’s how they put it, anyway. I’m _choosing_ to be difficult and have no interest in women, or getting married to one and procreating with her. In continuing the family legacy.”

“Is that why you’re doing this?”

Dorian turned around, facing Bull, who had propped himself up on his elbows to look him in the face. “What do you mean?”

“Is that why you’re fucking me? Or letting me fuck you, whichever. To get back at them?”

He looked unexpectedly serious. Dorian was concerned there was a right answer he was looking for, and that he didn’t know what it was.

“They...they don’t _know_ I’m doing this. I mean, they know I prefer men, but they don’t. They don’t know about you.”

Bull raised an eyebrow. “Thought you liked pissing them off.”

Dorian felt very squirmy under the heat of that intense stare. “It can be satisfying, but that’s not what this is for. This is just for me.”

He watched as Bull’s hand made its way to his thigh and settled there, thumb rubbing softly. “Good. I think maybe you could use more things in your life that are just for you.”

“You’re probably right,” Dorian agreed, keeping his tone even and lighthearted to steer them away from worse subjects.

Dorian was suddenly distracted by the sound of his phone vibrating on the hardwood floor. He turned his head towards it quickly. “I should probably get that,” he said reluctantly.

“You sure you want to?” Bull asked, but he moved his hand anyway.

Dorian made a face. “I don’t really want to, but it might be important.”

Bull nodded and Dorian stood up, shifting through the clothing he had dropped to the floor in his earlier haste. He grabbed the phone and took a moment to feel some trepidation at the caller--Alexius. He picked up the call quickly.”Hello?”

“Dorian?”

“Alexius, is everything alright?”

“I wanted to apologize--Felix being in and out of the hospital, you know, it’s been difficult keeping up with other things.”

“Oh, no, I completely understand,” Dorian assured him. He could feel Bull’s eye on him from across the room and walked over to sit beside him. “Is Felix alright?”

“Yes, he is. Still at home. He’s doing pretty well all things considered.”

“That’s good to hear,” Dorian said earnestly. He smiled fleetingly in Bull’s direction when he caught his eye.

“I did receive your email about your thesis--I think you’re wrong, I prefer the second thesis but I think you may want to add a new angle to it…”

Dorian and Alexius passed ideas back and forth for a minute before Dorian excused himself and bid him goodnight.

“Sorry about that,” he said lightly, stowing his phone away in his pants pocket on the floor.

“No problem,” Bull said. “That was that guy you’re working with on your doctoral thesis?”

“Yes,” Dorian affirmed. “But he’s also a family friend, and his son, Felix. He’s, ah, quite ill. In and out of the hospital very often, you see.”

“I’m sorry,” Bull murmured.

“Yes, well. I wanted to be sure nothing was wrong. You know how it is, I wouldn’t have answered right now otherwise.” He fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Hey, I get it. It’s alright.” Bull rested his hand on Dorian’s thigh again. Dorian tried to ignore how comforting the gesture was. “You feel like talking about it?”

“Oh, there isn’t much to say. I just...worry about him sometimes, that’s all.” Dorian sighed. “I haven’t been back home in a long time. I miss him. Not being able to see him when he’s in the hospital doesn’t help either. But, anyway,” Dorian cut himself off. “I didn’t come here to whine.”

“Dorian,” Bull said gently. “You can tell me whatever you want. I’ll always listen. And wanting to talk about your friend is completely understandable.” Bull squeezed his thigh.

They sat there in the quiet for a moment before Bull stretched.

“You up for another round?” Dorian chuckled at the leer aimed in his direction.

“I suppose I might be.”

“Great.” Bull grabbed Dorian’s thighs and dragged him onto his lap before Dorian could protest. He laughed loudly in surprise until Bull kissed him quiet.

 

"So," Dorian said one night in between rounds. "I feel that I still don't know much about _you_."

The Bull raised an eyebrow, smiling indulgently at Dorian sprawled over his chest. Dorian tried not to look too content when Bull moved a hand to scratch gently at his scalp.

"What would you like to know?"

Dorian considered, enjoying the way his hair was being mussed though he would never admit it. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a small business owner." Bull laughed at Dorian's expression. "What, were you expecting something different?"

"Maybe," he returned quietly.

"Like what?" Bull asked him. The amusement was clear in his tone but he did seem genuinely curious.

Dorian looked away from his gaze, a little uncomfortable. He didn’t feel like lying but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the truth, either. "I'm not sure...I figured you'd done some fighting, at some point."

"I did," Bull affirmed for him. Dorian stiffened a little at his solemn tone. He tried to relax when Bull calmly stroked his back.

"I was in the military for a while."

"A while?"

"I was in Seheron for ten years."

That was the kind of thing Dorian wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He scrambled for something to say and what came out was "So was that back when you still were under the Qun ?”

Bull stopped stroking rather abruptly. “Uh, no. I still follow.”

Dorian swallowed, very aware he’d said something wrong. “I, ah, apologize,” he got out as sincerely as he could. “I just assumed…

“You know what they say about that,” Bull reminded him. It sounded as though it was supposed to be a joke, but it came out sort of flat.

“Well, I figured most qunari aren’t so eager to jump into bed with a mage from Tevinter. I’m--I’m sorry.”

Bull was quiet for a moment, but then he sighed. “Ah, you didn’t know. I’m probably a little oversensitive to it right now, I’ll be seeing some of my old guys soon.”

“Is that a problem?” Dorian asked carefully. He didn’t want to say anything else that made Bull close up like that.

“I’m just used to them being--you know. Over _there._ ”

“Mm,” Dorian said. He felt guilty for saying anything as Bull started to abently rub his back again.

“Well--what else is there?”

“What?” Bull’s brow wrinkled.

“You know, to you. Your life. What else is important to _the Iron Bull_?”

Bull laughed at his slightly mocking tone and Dorian relaxed a little more, glad the change in subject had worked. “Well. I guess you haven’t heard about the Chargers, huh?”

“The Chargers?” Dorian asked blankly.

Bull crowed in delight. “I can’t believe I haven’t said anything about them yet. We met up after Seheron.”

“So...what are they, then, party of your army?” Dorian asked, his face scrunched in bemusement.

Bull chuckled. “Not exactly.”

“So what is it you do, then?” Dorian needled.

Bull smiled. “Hang on, I gotta tell you how the gang got together first.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, but he knew Bull saw him smile first. “Oh, alright. Do tell.”

 

Dorian was able to make more headway with his thesis once Alexius finally got in touch with him. They exchanged emails back and forth and Dorian spent a lot more time researching and studying than he had in awhile. Alexius even said he might be heading out to the area for research of his own, and that he would be happy to visit Dorian so they could talk in person.

He texted Bull frequently with news of his developments, babbling about any and every exciting thing that may prove useful for his studies. Bull proved to be surprisingly insightful about his research and offered up suggestions or, at the very least, asked useful questions.

He didn’t have as much time to spend with Bull, and he wasn’t always on the subway at the same times, but they talked enough through text that Dorian didn’t find himself missing him overmuch. He tended to get pretty wrapped up in research when he got interested enough; he had classes and other responsibilities besides.

He did sort of miss him some nights, though. Some nights, even when he was not sad or needing a distraction, he found himself pausing whilst reading a text. It might be nice if Bull was here to share a drink with him and talk to about the reading.  The thought was unnerving to him and he tried to shake himself out of it, but he found himself thinking of him regardless.

 

Dorian’s father called one night when he was in the middle of research and initiated a conversation that ended in a shouting match and veiled threats to drag him kicking and screaming back home where he could be more easily controlled.

Dorian’s solution had been to get himself a bottle of Orlesian red wine and made his way to the Iron Bull's. He was already a little tipsy when he arrived at the front door.

He didn't have to say a thing. The Bull knew what he needed, and swept him inside to tie him down and make him feel everything, and then, nothing.

 

It was the first night he stayed over, as it turned out. Dorian and the Bull went at it twice before Dorian picked up the wine again and offered to share. He drunkenly spilled his tale of woe and sniffled unwillingly into the Bull's strong chest, trying to ward off tears (and mostly succeeding). He was so tired, so lost, and he had never felt more safe in his life than when Bull held him in his lap, big hands sliding through his hair and cupping the back of his head.

"He's a fool if he thinks he can control me," Dorian slurred as Bull maneuvered them both under the sheets. Normally Dorian might be cold but the Bull was a tremendous replacement for heavy comforters or space heaters.

"He's a fool either way, Dorian." Dorian looked up only to feel the Bull's big hand on his cheek. His eye was bright and honest. The eye patch lay discarded on the bedside table, and the scarred mass that used to be his other eye was on display in the low lighting. The moment was unbearably intimate. If Dorian had been sober he would have run for the hills. As it was, the warmth he felt from the drink and the Bull both made him feel like he could say anything at all in this room. Anything at all and he would not be judged.

"Either way?" He croaked. Bull lightly bumped noses with Dorian, pressing a kiss under his eye.

"Whether he thinks he can control you or not, he's a fool. For not accepting you the way you are."

Dorian froze, staying completely still as Bull pressed kisses to his face.

"I know how you Vints are about this kind of thing, but you're incredible. You're a smart guy, getting his PhD. You’re funny and kind. Anyone would be proud of you. If they aren't, fuck them. Fuck their expectations.You're a good person. That's what matters." Dorian goggled at him. His chest grew tight as Bull placed his huge hand on it. "I hear the way you talk about Felix, and your parents. You care about people.” Bull smiled gently at him. “You have such a big heart, Dorian. _I’m_ proud of you."

Dorian made an involuntary noise and turned his face away, overwhelmed. The Bull made a soft crooning sound, pulling him to his chest. "Come here, Kadan." He allowed himself to be manhandled because it felt good, in a way, to let himself be held and soothed. He wondered briefly at the word he didn't know but quickly fell asleep to the calming motions of the Bull's hand in his hair.

 

The next morning Dorian awoke feeling much warmer than he usually did. He wrinkled his nose and twitched his fingers, feeling a warm, large body next to him. He opened his eyes halfway--and there was Bull, looking fondly at him. Dorian was lying halfway on top of him, and Bull, propped against the pillow, was rubbing at his back softly.

“Morning,” he said sweetly. Dorian just yawned loudly and inelegantly. Bull snorted. “Just as graceful as I imagined it would be,”

“Oh, fuck off.” Bull laughed and drew him up for a kiss. Dorian struggled half-heartedly.

“But, your morning breath--”

“--isn’t any worse than yours,” Bull finished. He kissed Dorian’s nose.

“Oh, that isn’t all you were going to do, is it?” Dorian asked disdainfully.

“What about my morning breath?” Bull asked seriously. Dorian groaned. “There’s an extra toothbrush in the cupboard if you want to use it,” Bull said, amused.

Dorian stood with a huff. “You’d better brush yours too, if you expect any kisses from me,” he said snobbishly.

“You got it, big guy.”

 

Things were going pretty well until Dorian received another call from Alexius, this one during the middle of a weekday.

“Dorian, I’m sorry but I’m afraid I probably won’t be able to make it out to the university next week.” Alexius had sounded utterly exhausted.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dorian said cautiously.

“It’s nothing to be worried over, but Felix is back in the hospital. He’s had a relapse.”

“Oh no,” Dorian said quickly, dismayed.

“He’s doing alright now, but they want to keep him in for a few days. Be sure it’s all cleared up, you know how it is,” Alexius said dismissively, but Dorian wasn’t fooled by his tone.

“Are you sure? I mean--is there anything I can do?”

“No, no,” Alexius quickly said. “Nothing, Dorian. He just needs a few days to recuperate. I know he would probably appreciate hearing from you, but beyond that--”

“Of course,” Dorian rushed to say. “Of course. I miss him. I’ll be sure to call him soon.”

“Alright. Thank you for understanding, Dorian.”

“It’s no trouble...I hope he recovers quickly,” Dorian finished weakly.

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

Dorian hung up, feeling helpless. He would text Felix later that evening, for sure.

 

He actually hadn’t been able to wait until that evening, utterly distracted by a persistent feeling of wrongness. He just couldn’t shake it, no matter what he tried. He had texted Felix during his afternoon class, and again after class, and once on the subway home. He had yet to receive a response to any of them. It was likely he was just sleeping--it had happened before, after all--and yet.

Dorian felt like having a few drinks to take the edge off, but then again...how long had it been since he had last seen Bull? Suddenly he longed to be wrapped in his comforting embrace, surrounded by this man so much bigger than he was who made him feel so safe. Whether or not they had sex that night felt irrelevant, almost.

And that thought stopped him in his tracks. _Irrelevant? What the fuck, Dorian. It is most certainly not irrelevant. Sex is the entire reason you go over to his place! That’s it._

Feeling even worse than before but determined to ignore it, Dorian decided to have a drink before heading over. He texted Bull, waited around for a yes, then left his apartment.  
  


He didn’t feel much better while heading over but hoped fervently that he would after he and Bull had had sex. He hadn’t done that in a while; he could sorely use the stress relief. Bull called for him to let himself inside when he knocked. Dorian walked in, where Bull called for him to meet him in the bedroom. He felt a thrill of excitement in his stomach at the sultry tone--how he had missed it.

Bull was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off the knee brace he always wore. Dorian sat beside him carefully.

“Would you like some help with that?”

Bull had an unusually tired look on his face. “Nah, I got it.”

“Alright.” Dorian sat, the feeling of uselessness pervading him once more. He watched as Bull tugged off the brace and set it to the side of the bed, sighing deeply and rubbing the back of his neck. He then turned to Dorian with a tired smile. “Hey. Thanks for waiting.” He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Dorian’s mouth, inviting and soft and fond. Dorian returned the light pressure and smiled back at Bull when he pulled away. He did his best to ignore the warmth in his chest and the frantic uptic in his pulse.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night?” he drawled provocatively.

Bull laughed and pounced on him immediately.

 

Lying in bed afterwards, Dorian was just starting to feel relaxed when Bull stood up. “Where are you going?” Dorian managed.

“Lie back down,” Bull told him. “I’m just grabbing a rag.”

Dorian blew air through his nose in exasperation. “You don’t need to do that every time,” he sighed.

Bull returned with the cloth, eyebrow raised. “I want to."

Dorian said nothing else but avoided Bull's face, looking at the pillows instead. He closed his eyes tightly as he felt Bull gently stroke his ass and lower back and inner thighs, swiping away the mess with the warm wet cloth.

His muscles tensed when Bull's hand stopped on his back, a warm weight resting there.

"Hey." Dorian looked over his shoulder at Bull. He was staring at him with a worried expression. "You alright, big guy?"

Dorian didn’t answer right away. He just huffed into the pillows. “I am _fine,_ Bull.”

Bull sat down heavily on the bed, removing his hand slowly. “Are you sure? You wanna talk about anything, I’m right here.”

_And that was the problem,_ Dorian lamented. Bull was so kind and generous and giving with his time and attention, and Dorian...Dorian was not. And Bull didn’t want anything like what Dorian was just now realizing he was after, did he?

But he would never know unless he asked.

He cleared his throat, incredibly nervous. “Bull...what are we doing?”

He sat up, arranging himself so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. He couldn’t look Bull in the face so he stared at his own hands, curled into loose fists on his thighs.

The longer Bull took to answer the more tense he could feel himself getting.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Bull eventually said, nice, gentle, the way he said everything. It stung, knowing this was the kindest let down he'd ever had.

Dorian could feel a dull pain in his chest as Bull finished. It was ridiculous, the total crash in mood he felt, that stupid pain...as though his heart was splitting inside of him. When had he gotten so sentimental? When had the Bull come to mean so much to him?

“I have to go,” he blurted out suddenly in a panic. He glanced up at the Bull, who had kept his expression carefully neutral. He only met his gaze for a second before he got up and began to hastily pull on his clothing. He felt keenly Bull’s eye on him, and he shrank a little under the strength of his insecurities, the weight suddenly too much for him to bear. His hair was a mess, the makeup on his eyes smudged. His clothing would be all wrinkled now. He would look awful going back home.

“Dorian,” Bull broke into his mess of thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, fine, Bull,” he got out in a rush. “Silly question. I just, I need to go. And I don’t think we should do this anymore. It’s gotten way...er-way off from where we started. This isn’t--this isn’t what I signed up for,” he rambled as he tugged on his boots.

He only paused once he’d finished getting dressed, on his way out. He stopped in the doorway, mouth open to say one more thing. Bull’s face was still blank. He saw Dorian’s face and shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything else, Dorian.”

Dorian swallowed heavily, feeling the lump in his throat that meant tears were imminent. Bull didn’t want to hear any more pathetic excuses.

He couldn’t blame him. Bull probably wanted him to get out of here so he wouldn’t have to deal with him all upset. So he just nodded, and fled.

 

The next Wednesday Dorian mentally geared himself up to see Bull on the subway. He hashed out every scenario he could possibly think of--Bull sat next to him and wanted to talk. He sat away from him and avoided him. He said mean things.

On his walk to the station, Dorian was anxious but ultimately prepared for anything. Everything, that is, except for Bull not showing up in the first place.

He got stuck on how shocked he was at Bull’s absence and could not shake himself out of the funk he’d gotten into for the rest of the day. Bull was not there the next day, or the next day, or the day after that either. Dorian felt numb. He had told Bull he didn’t wanted to see him again, he knew that, but...he hadn’t really _wanted_ it.

But Bull was, apparently, okay with it. He had stopped taking the subway at this time altogether in order to more completely cut Dorian out of his life. And that...made Dorian unbearably sad. He regretted his hasty departure from Bull’s, but he simply didn’t see another way it could have gone for him. It was a matter of dealing with the pain now, on his terms, or later, when Bull decided he was done with him. Dorian had just chosen to make it on his own terms.

He had learned from a very young age that it was best to manipulate the situation so he came out the victor. That’s all he had done here. And Bull was just...fun. He had been a good time, absolutely. But that was all. Dorian would get over it. In time. It was an unpleasant reminder on the subway when Bull never came in the morning to sit by him and flirt outrageously, but he had been a blip in Dorian’s life here, and that’s all.

 

Dorian had somewhat managed to push thoughts of Bull to the side when he received another call from Alexius.

“Have you given any thought as to when you’ll be home next?” he asked.

“Not really,” Dorian quipped. “I’m quite busy with my studies over here, I’m sure you understand.”

“Felix has been in for another round of treatment. It’s been...difficult, and I know he would appreciate seeing you.”

Dorian nodded sorrowfully though Alexius couldn’t see him. “Is that why he hasn’t been answering my attempts at communication? I was concerned, I’ll admit.”

“He’s recovering,” Alexius said quickly. “But yes. He’s been a little down lately because of it.”

Dorian sighed. Returning to Tevinter was not something he was entirely comfortable with, but he was reasonably certain that nothing bad would happen since he wasn’t going to see his family. And he was willing to risk a lot for Felix.

“Though there are some experimental treatments we are looking into, so don’t worry yourself too much,” he said airily. “I do know he misses you, though. And, Dorian...I’ve spoken to your father as well. He wants a chance to speak to you in person again.”

Dorian immediately tensed, unsure. _And I was so sure I could avoid them entirely. Silly me._

“Does he now.”

“Yes,” Alexius sounded rather sincere. “I think he is ready to begin making amends. As a father, Dorian, I would recommend that you see him. I am certain he misses you. He asked me to pass on the message, so I am. You will do what you will, of course, but I hope you find it within yourself to speak with him.”

Dorian could never be sure, but maybe it was different this time. He felt a tiny spring of hope in his chest that he quickly tamped down. Maybe...maybe this would change for the better. Things were so low they _had_ to start looking up.

“Alright,” he agreed tentatively. “I’ll call him, anyhow. We’ll see. I’ll make plans to come during spring break, then, if that suits you? It’s in a few weeks. I hope that’s not too far off,” he added anxiously, as an afterthought.

“I think that should do nicely,” Alexius said approvingly. “I look forward to it, and I know Felix will too.”

Dorian did speak with his father once and was surprised at how receptive he seemed. Halward listened to him speak about his thesis and seemed fairly pleased at seeing him soon.

“I’ve missed you, my son,” he said, and though it was a little wooden Dorian would take it. It was more than he had received in years from his father.

“You too, Father,” he said earnestly. “I’m glad for the chance to see you soon.”

“And I as well,” Halward agreed. “I am glad for the chance to talk with you again.”

A little vague, Dorian thought, which was odd. But he paid it no mind, thinking on Felix and what kind of trinket he could possibly bring him from Orlais.

 

He was somewhat relieved to see Felix calling him even though he happened to be in the library at the time. He had gotten rather worried after several days had passed without communication, even after talking to Alexius.

“Finally,” Dorian exclaimed, albeit quietly. “I rather missed hearing your voice.”

“Dorian,” Felix started. He sounded urgent, which was strange.

“What’s wrong?” Dorian teased. “I’m the one who’s meant to be worrying and fussing.”

“I have to tell you something important,” Felix said, voice raspy.

Dorian frowned, standing from his chair and the open books. He walked out into the stacks which were mostly vacated before daring to raise his voice any. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“It isn’t about me this time,” Felix said, voice heavy with regret. “I had to tell you--you can’t come back.”

Dorian paused. “To Tevinter?” he asked dumbly. “Why on earth not?”

“Your father--”

“--is actually willing to work with me for once, though I appreciate your concern, Felix.” Dorian cut him off. “I can’t believe it, I never thought this day would come.” As he said the words they didn’t quite ring true, for some reason.

“Dorian…” Dorian tensed at his tone. “He’s planning something.”

“Is he? Something besides welcoming me home with open arms?” He laid on the amusement a little thick, to hide the sudden fear he felt at the way Felix was talking. Felix just sighed heavily. “Don’t keep me in suspense, my good man,” Dorian joked weakly.

“Dorian, I am so sorry I have to tell you this. But I need you to be safe. Please stay in Val Royeaux. Your father is planning to kidnap you as soon as you’re back.”

Dorian scoffed, but his heart was racing. He faked a bored sigh for Felix’ benefit. “Again? That isn’t my favorite thing to have to endure, but I’ve muddled through that before.” His voice was lighter than he actually felt. “You sound as if that isn’t all, though.”

“Once he kidnaps you he’s going to perform a ritual. One that’ll change your sexual preferences, so you’ll want to marry a woman. He's going to use blood magic, Dorian.”

Dorian was speechless for all of a minute before letting out a choked laugh. “Blood magic?! To change me?” He cursed inwardly at the way his voice broke. Another library patron he hadn’t noticed in the shelves nearby glared at him for being too loud.

“Yes. I found out about the plans from my father. I think he was intending to talk your father out of it if he could, but I don’t think he’s willing to intervene right now. Too focused on me,” and here Felix broke off the sentence to cough loudly. “Like always. So I had to warn you.”

“What...which ritual was it,” Dorian whispered.

“Dorian, do you really want the--”

“Yes,” he hissed, ashamed at the way tears had begun leaking from his eyes. “Tell me everything you know.”

As Felix described the steps he was aware of, Dorian realized he had heard of something similar to this before. Unfortunately, many participants of that research had ending up drooling vegetables. Did his father not care if the same happened to him? Was it really better than the scandal he had caused in his youth, better than a son who refused to marry a woman?

“Thank you for warning me,” he rasped after Felix had finished. “As much as I would love to talk to you more, I need to excuse myself.”

“Dorian,” Felix sounded worried. “Be careful. And I expect you to call me tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Dorian agreed, before hanging up the phone.

Dorian fled the library as soon as he could walk without his knees shaking. He went straight home, where he promptly emptied his liquor cabinet and drank himself into a stupor. There were just so many things to be angry about, so much despair to lose himself in.

This meant all hopes he had of repairing his relationship with his family were gone. Likely the money being sent for school was now gone too. What had his mother said about it all? Would she have done anything?

He supposed he had his answer, since she hadn’t even bothered to talk to him since he left Tevinter. She could have warned him, but she hadn’t. One more loss.

And Felix...good, kind, wonderful Felix, who warned him...now he wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to him. Not a proper goodbye, anyhow. He owed him so very much, and now he could never repay it. Alexius had tried to put a good front on his emotions, stating his thought Felix might yet recover, but Dorian wasn’t under the same illusions. He could hope that Felix might get better enough to visit here, but the hope might make things worse in the end.

Speaking of Alexius--there was yet another betrayal. He hadn’t thought to warn Dorian, though Dorian looked to him for guidance more than he consulted his real parents. Disappointing as well. Yes, Felix had said he disagreed, but he hadn’t told Dorian of it either…

Dorian cast glances around the floor where he sat, bottles strewn around him. He fumbled into his pocket for his phone, pressing buttons until the screen lit up. He wanted to talk to someone, so he could rid himself of this horrific all-encompassing loneliness that yawned in his chest like a pit…

He scrolled through the contacts, and to his mortification there was no one. No one he was particularly close to. No one he could talk to, except for...the Bull.

Dorian yelled wordlessly in frustration and threw his phone at the wall. It smacked against the wall and skittered underneath his bed.

Dorian realized quickly that if it was broken he wouldn’t have the means to purchase another. He curled into a ball on the floor and cried, this final thought being the proverbial straw on the camel’s back.

_With any luck,_ he thought, hiccuping pathetically, _I drank so much I just won’t wake at all tomorrow._ He opened another bottle of something on the floor close by and drank nearly half of its contents for good measure.

 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you viewed things. Dorian felt decidedly _not_ fortunate) Dorian did not perish. His legendary tolerance for alcohol had saved him from death, though not from a truly atrocious hangover that made him wish for death repeatedly. He only got up to vomit every so often and retrieve his phone from under the bed after someone tried calling for the sixth time.

Felix had called four times. His father had called once (Dorian vaguely remembering calling to inform him he would not be coming and cringed to think what exactly he might’ve said). The last call had been from Bull, surprisingly. No voicemail from him.

It was just as well. Dorian couldn’t face talking to him when he felt like this. _No wonder he doesn’t want more with me_ , he thought despairingly. _Look at me. I’m a fucking mess._

He texted Felix “im alive pls stop calling i will call in a few hours” and crawled underneath the covers to shut out what little light remained in his apartment. Maybe things would look better in the evening, though admittedly Dorian was beginning to believe things would never look better for him.

 

A week passed. Dorian spent more of it than he’d readily admit drinking, drunk, or hungover, but he’d had a rather difficult time of it lately. He’d forgive himself.The looming deadline he’d set for his dissertation did not inspire him to do much; he knew he needed to conduct more research and participate in the research he’d signed up for to help pay for his degree. He could only wallow so much before it started to adversely affect the one aspect of his life that wasn’t currently ruined.

 

Dorian had actually managed to drag himself to the library that day Alexius called, which is why he missed it. His phone was on silent as he made a surprising amount of headway into his research and writing, and so it went ignored for a few hours. When he realized his stomach was growling, he reluctantly set aside the books and strode out into the bright sunlight, blinking in surprise. The weather hadn't been this warm in ages. He was struck suddenly by a powerful desire to be home, at his family's estate in Qarinus. He swallowed back the sadness as best he could; that desire would have to go unrealized, unfortunately. There was no way he could return there, not soon. Perhaps not ever.

He tried not to think about it as he walked across campus to the cafe. He would just grab a sandwich or wrap and then get back to work. He wouldn't even have broken his stride in the writing if he hadn't been so hungry, so he wanted to be quick about it.

As he stood in line he absently pulled out his phone to check the time. He was immediately alarmed to see he'd missed a call from Alexius. With some trepidation he brought the phone to his ear to call him back.

He froze as soon as he heard Alexius' voice. The tremble, the exhaustion in it.

"Dorian. I needed to let you know."

Dorian stepped out of the line, heart racing nervously. He had an idea but he desperately hoped he was wrong.

"Felix is...gone." Dorian choked at the way his voice broke. He thought he was going to throw up. The panic was rising and it only got worse as people around him began to stare. He hadn’t said goodbye. He had talked to Felix once two days ago and he’d sounded tired, yes, but not...not almost dead.

“Dorian? I am sorry--”

“Sorry?” Dorian gasped. “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I thought I had more time.”

“I wanted for you to visit, Dorian.”

“I wanted that too,” he said shrilly. “And then I was warned about my father’s plan to blood magic me into marrying the girl he picked out for me! Thanks for keeping that to yourself, by the way,” he snarled wetly.

“I didn’t want to make things worse, Dorian.” Alexius sounded unbearably tired but it was difficult for Dorian to be rational. Every tired thing that came out of Alexius’ mouth only served to make him angrier.

“You know what I wanted? I wanted to see Felix again, and I wanted to make peace with my father, but I didn’t get either of those things! I never will!”

He ripped the phone from his ear as though it burned and fled the cafe. He just needed to get off campus, as fast as possible.

He was breathing fast, on the verge of some kind of break, he was certain. Before he had quite realized his own plan he was on the subway. He sat there, head between his knees as he tried to breathe more slowly. He didn't know where he was going; he didn't much feel like going home. There was nothing to drink there. As a matter of fact, he was going the wrong way for that anyhow. He had gotten on the wrong line in his haste to get away.

He could stop by a liquor store if he really wanted something, but he didn't want to go buy anything right now, hands shaking and staving off tears. Wouldn't want to give off the wrong impression.

He sat up, hands on his face. The car came slowly to a stop and he paused as they called out the street name. If memory served, there was a florist nearby. Dorian had walked by before when he had taken a stroll to get off campus for a while. He could buy something, for Alexius. Maybe have it sent. Or just peruse, get ideas for later. Anything to avoid going home, really.

So he got off with a purpose, a thought that made it a little easier to get up and take one step after the other.

He wrapped his arms around himself and walked steadily onward, eyes mostly focused on his own feet. He could hold himself together. He would just go in, be his regular charming self, and buy some flowers. A woefully inadequate gesture considering all Felix and his father had done for him (not to mention he was starting to feel guilty for yelling at a grieving father), but it was all he could do, considering he could not safely return to Tevinter.

Then, maybe...no. He couldn’t think of later. He simply was not certain how he would survive _later._ No Felix, no friends, no family...no return home. No Father ever becoming proud of him. No way, probably, to finish his doctorate.  No Bull, either. He’d gone and ruined that, hadn’t he--one of the only good things in his life here. In his life at all, for that matter.

He choked on a sob that made it halfway through his mouth before his clamped it shut. No, none of that. Not yet.

After what felt like a lot of walking but still much too soon for his comfort, Dorian spied the sign to the shop across the street. He gathered his coat and scarf around himself at a sudden chill he felt, eyes cast down as he hurriedly crossed the street.

The bell tinkled as he entered the shop. The sweet aroma of flowers greeted him immediately, surprisingly not too cloying as it could be in some shops. The scents blended rather nicely, and he breathed deeply, steeling himself. He pasted a pretty smile on his lips as he looked up at the sound of footsteps. A man with short brown hair came out from a back room, carrying a pot of white carnations. Dorian swallowed, recalling suddenly white carnations that had been present at the funeral of his maternal grandmother. They were a favorite among Tevinter funerals. He imagined Alexius (or someone assisting him) would order some just like these for Felix.

The man narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously as he walked past to set the pot next to a few others with white tulips.

"Hey, Chief, you mind comin' out to deal with a customer?"

_Chief?_

"Alright, Krem," a deep voice chuckled from the back room. Dorian frowned. How familiar that voice sounded. But the idea of the Iron Bull working in a flower shop was preposterous. Also, apparently, true.

Dorian's breath caught in his throat as The Iron Bull himself strode confidently out into the front. He stopped when he saw who it was.

"Dorian," he said quietly. Dorian noted with rising horror that he not only failed to sound surprised, but instead sounded...incredibly fond. He didn't know what to do with that.

"Bull," he managed. He took a step backwards as he felt the heavy weight of both men's stares. Bull turned to the other. "You can head out, Krem, I'll take care of him."

Krem just nodded, inclining his head towards Dorian slightly before striding into the back. He returned quickly with a jacket and dusty book bag, which he slung over one shoulder before stepping out the front door. Dorian's eyes flicked back to the door as it jangled loudly.

"Dorian," Bull said softly. Dorian smirked at Bull, doing his best to appear unaffected by his appearance.

"Well, well. I didn't expect you to work _here_ of all places."

"I like being a florist," Bull returned calmly, eyes fixed on Dorian's. Dorian did his best not to fidget under his gaze.

"Do you," he sneered. He could hear how nasty he sounded, how terribly mean and judgemental. Bull could only be glad at this point that Dorian had stopped coming around. Why would anyone want him around? The only real friend he'd ever had was dead.

"I do," Bull returned easily. "I like flowers. They're pretty."

He grinned, a little lopsided and showing off the pointy tips of his incisors, like he was reminding Dorian of another pretty thing he'd liked.

Dorian scoffed, mortified at the way his eyes grew hot and tears brimmed at the edges.

Bull's grin eased into something softer, and his brow furrowed slightly. "What's wrong, big guy?"

Dorian immediately burst into tears, horrified at his behavior but powerless to stop. He rubbed frantically at his eyes until he felt two large hands curling around his. He blinked to see Bull standing in front of him, eyes unbearably soft and understanding. His hands were so gentle for being as large as they were. "Why don't you come sit down for a minute." Dorian found himself being led to the back, through another room with a few buckets of roses and daffodils, to a cozy office with a lumpy green sofa, a desk in nicely finished oak, and a little hot plate on top of a stool.

Bull led him to the sofa, where he sat, still crying. Bull sat with him until he stopped gasping quite so loudly, and managed a deep breath. "Stay right here, Dorian," Bull murmured. "I'll be right back."

Dorian nodded, feeling anxious as Bull rose from the room. He buried his face in his hands and allowed himself a little whimper. He should really leave, get away before he became Bull's burden all over again.

But he didn’t have the energy to keep running. He needed to just...stay, for a bit. Sit here for a while. It seemed as though Bull didn’t mind, though he was always so patient Dorian suspected it would be hard to tell if he actually did mind.

Bull returned before he had much more time to freak out. He sat on the arm of the couch further from Dorian, to give him space, most likely. That or he didn’t feel like touching Dorian.

“You wanna tell me what’s the matter, Dorian?”

Dorian blinked rapidly at the wetness in his eyes. “Why,” he paused, sniffing. “Why are you always so _nice_ to me?”

“You think it’d help you more if I was mean?” Bull asked teasingly. When Dorian made no response other than his sniffles, Bull sighed. He moved a hand slowly to rest on Dorian’s shoulder, making sure Dorian seemed okay with the casual touch first. “I’m not really in the habit of being a dick to people who’re crying in front of me,” he said softly. “Especially not to pretty vints.” Dorian tried to concentrate on the feeling of Bull’s hand rubbing his shoulder through his jacket. It was warm and soothing. He felt very tired.

“You wanna tell me who you were gonna buy flowers for?” Bull asked gently.

“Alexius,” he whispered brokenly. Bull’s hand paused on his back. “Felix...Felix is dead.” Hearing himself say the words aloud was strange, and it hurt. But he needed to hear them, however painful it might be.

“Oh, Dorian,” Bull said sadly. Dorian’s breath hitched at his tone, and he felt himself starting to lose it--and then something sharp pierced the air--a noise, incredibly loud. Dorian jumped, startling badly. It shocked him out of his tears and Bull cursed quietly. “I’m sorry, I was making some tea for us--I’ll just grab that.”

“Alright.” Dorian stared at his shoes as Bull heaved himself off the couch arm and bustled around with the kettle and mugs. He came back quickly, slotting a warm mug in Dorian’s waiting hands. Dorian moved aside to make room for Bull to sit beside him and Bull favored him with a small smile. He lowered his giant frame onto the sofa with a grunt before turning his attention back to Dorian.

“When did it happen, Dorian?”

Dorian leaned into Bull’s side, shuffling closer at the promise of his comforting bulk. “Today? I don’t know exactly,” he said faintly. “Alexius called at 4 and told me and I...didn’t hear him out. I couldn’t, I only just dealt with my father and now _this_ \--” he clamped his mouth shut as he heard himself becoming hysterical. How dreadfully embarrassing.

“Your father?” Bull’s voice had gotten slightly more gruff. Dorian nodded.

“I was going to go back to Tevinter to see Felix, and to see my parents. Try and smooth things over, he said. He asked me to call him, that’s what I thought he wanted. I was a fool to believe him...Felix warned me. Let me know what he was planning.” Dorian’s own voice had gotten rather detached. It almost sounded like someone else entirely was doing all the talking.

“What was he planning, Dorian?”

“A ritual. With blood magic. He was going to...change me.” Dorian’s voice broke slightly through his sentence (just like the first time, damn it) but Bull kindly ignored it. "Make me _want_ to marry the girl. Or make me so complacent I wouldn't care what l was doing."

“When did you find that out?”

“Tuesday before last,” he whispered.

“You’ve had a terrible few weeks, haven’t you,” Bull said softly.

Dorian’s hands clenched around the mug and he nodded fiercely, eyes squeezed shut. “I feel like absolutely everything is unraveling, I can’t go back and I’ve been cut off and my only--my best friend is dead and I have no one and no purpose here, and I’ve just--I’ve just wanted to see you all this week but you weren’t on the subway and I--” He struggled with the words before he simply let the tears get the best of him. Bull took the mug from his hands and set it somewhere before gathering him into his arms.

He made soft hushing sounds and let Dorian clutch at him. He rubbed his back while Dorian sobbed into his chest. “Let it out, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” His words only made Dorian cling tighter, crying until he had worn himself out completely.

Bull just held him, laying a cheek carefully against Dorian’s mussed hair. Dorian sighed as Bull continued to rub a hand along his spine.

“Bull,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Were you avoiding me on the subway?”

Bull chuckled. Dorian tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach when he felt Bull’s laughter rumbling in his chest. “No. I was trying to give you space, I thought that’s what you wanted. You’re grieving right now though, Dorian, we don’t have to discuss this now--”

“I just wanted to know why you weren’t there,” he said sullenly.

Bull kissed his temple softly. “I haven’t really needed to take the subway for weeks. I don’t usually, unless I need to take something big with me that won’t fit on my bike.”

“Your bike?” Dorian asked, raising his head to look Bull in the eye.

Bull smiled. “Yeah. She’s a beauty. I did mean to take you for a ride on it sometime, if you were interested.” Dorian scoffed at his grin. _Of course he has a fucking motorcycle._

“Why haven’t I seen your bike before?” Bull snorted at his indignant tone.

“It was in the shop. S’why I started taking the subway again in the first place.” Dorian was quiet as Bull’s thumb rubbed gently along the small of his back.

“So, Dorian. I’d like to ask you something. If you don’t want to answer, fine, but please be honest with me if you do.”

Dorian averted his gaze, feeling warm under his collar. He nodded in the affirmative, though, so Bull went on.

“Did you really want to break things off with me? I’m a little confused.” And he did sound it, a little.

Dorian sighed deeply. “I...no. But I wanted to break it off before you did.”

“What makes you think I was gonna break it off?” Bull sounded concerned, which only made Dorian irritated.

“I had no idea what to think! You never gave me the slightest indication of what you wanted! It was always me, me, me, always what _I_ wanted.” He swallowed loudly before continuing. “I didn’t know where we stood.” He glanced up at Bull. His face was unbearably sad.

“You could’ve asked me, Dorian.”

“And you could’ve let me know what you wanted too, so I guess we’re both to blame,” he said tartly.

Bull nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“So...what do you want, Bull?” The question was out before he had really processed saying it, but it was too late now. His heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t think he could take another rejection right now so why he decided to ask that of all things was beyond him--

“I didn’t want things to end.”

Dorian inhaled sharply. Bull started rubbing up and down his back once more. “I liked how much closer we were getting. Really liked it when you stayed over. I wanted...more than I ever have with someone I started sleeping with. But I wanted to play by your rules, big guy. I was afraid if I was honest I would scare you off.” He laughed, a little self-deprecating. “Turns out withholding the truth was what did it, though. Who would’ve thought.”

Dorian chewed at his lip. “I liked it too,” he said in a rush. “Being closer.”

Bull smiled. “Yeah?”

Dorian nodded shyly. “Yes. It was nice, but the intimacy was...frightening. No one’s ever wanted me to stay before.”

Bull sighed, full of pent-up frustration and sadness, and Dorian laid his head against Bull’s chest again. “Dorian,” he said after a few minutes. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Dorian tensed in his arms, but Bull ran his hand soothingly over his neck. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I would feel better if you weren’t alone tonight, though. I would feel better if you were with me.”

Dorian paused. “But what about--”

“Hey, listen,” Bull told him gently. “Look at me.” Dorian sat up in his hold, and Bull brought a hand to his face, cradling his cheek like it was the most precious thing in the world. “I am more than interested in making this thing work with you, and I have a feeling now you are too, but let’s give it some time. You have a lot you’re dealing with, and all I wanna do right now is support you. Let’s leave the hard conversations for tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” Dorian breathed. Bull kissed his forehead before they both got up. “Oh,” Dorian remembered something.

Bull raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“”Did everything go alright with...the men from the Qun? I, ah...never got the chance to ask.”

Bull’s features were heavy with pain for a few seconds before he got rid of the expression. “No. I’m Tal-Vashoth now.”

Dorian inhaled sharply. “Bull-”

Bull shushed him. “It’s alright. Well. Not exactly. But let’s leave that conversation for later too, okay?”

Dorian nodded. That was only fair, after all. Bull kissed his hair, grateful.

Dorian cleaned up their mugs while Bull disappeared into the front of the shop for a few moments. When Dorian went out to join him, Bull was surveying some of his flowers.

“What did you have in mind for Felix? It’s on me, whatever you were thinking,” he added quickly.

Dorian swallowed his dismissal. “The white carnations,” he whispered. “With something yellow. Felix loved yellow.”

Bull smiled. “You got it.”

When Dorian went to fill out the card Bull provided him with, his gaze landed instead on the business cards Bull had left out for customers to grab.

_A Peony Saved for a Peony Earned._

He stared for a minute before his breath caught in his chest, not in sobs, but in slightly crazed laughter.

Bull looked up in alarm. “Dorian, are you--”

“A peony saved for a--Bull you absolute _fool_ \--I can’t believe--”

And then Bull was laughing too. “Oh yeah, believe it. Krem gives me shit for it all the time.” Dorian wiped at his eyes, wheezing.

“I can’t believe I never knew you owned a flower shop,” he said softly after his laughter had subsided.

“I did say I was a small business owner,” Bull offered. “We never got around to talking about what kind of business.”

“My mistake,” Dorian said softly. Bull smiled at him radiantly over the counter, and for a strange, split second, Dorian felt--at peace. And...happy. He supposed it was possible that it hadn’t all turned to shit. Not yet.

With Bull smiling at him like that...he thought he was willing to give things another try, in more than just this.

 

_Three Months Later_

 

“Will you be ready in fifteen minutes? Or are you going to need another hour to gussy up?”

Dorian scoffed loudly for effect. “Fifteen minutes is just fine. It doesn’t take _that_ long to get ready.”

Bull chuckled over the line. Dorian rolled his eyes, phone in one hand, stick of kohl in the other. “Alright. Fair warning, though. Don’t spend too much time on your hair.”

“Why not?” Dorian asked thoughtlessly.

“You can’t guess, big guy?”

Dorian smirked. “Mm, I might be able to. I guess I’m finally getting that ride you mentioned?”

Bull cackled. “Yeah, I’ve already shown you other rides. Figured you might want to ride the bike as well as the Bull.”

Dorian sighed, pretending he hated Bull’s horrible puns as he usually did. “Yes, alright, I suppose I won’t waste too much time if I’m only going to end up with some dreadfully windswept style.”

“More like helmet hair. If you think I’m not going to make you wear one you’re not as smart as I pegged you for.”

Dorian made a displeased sound. “We’ll discuss that when you get here.”

“I’m not taking you anywhere without one.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dorian said breezily.

They didn’t leave until Dorian had the helmet firmly buckled under his chin, to his dismay.

“Ah, it’ll be alright,” Bull brushed off his complaints easily. “Better safe than sorry.”

Dorian supposed that was sound logic, even though he was not quite done being upset over how terrible his hair would look afterwards.

“Lucky for you we aren’t going anywhere a lot of people will be ogling you, then,” Bull teased. He patted the seat behind him and Dorian climbed on, very aware of how close he was forced to press against Bull to fit.

“Really? What a shame,” he drawled. “I do so love to be admired.”

“Oh, you will be,” Bull assured him. “But maybe I just want you all to myself tonight.”

Dorian smiled at the pleasant shiver that ran down his back. “I can’t argue with that.”

He clung tightly to Bull as he started the bike. Bull took many of the turns much more quickly than Dorian would have liked. He was forced to wrap himself tightly around Bull, fingers digging into Bull’s belly as he let out a whoop of excitement.

“Be _careful_ you brute!” he screeched, but it was probably lost in the sounds of traffic around them.

Eventually Bull pulled onto a windy side road and the surroundings became much quieter. Dorian kept holding tightly as Bull took the turns fast, though admittedly not dangerously. He trusted Bull not to let them crash.

He pulled to a gentle stop at the crest of a grassy hill with a great view of the city. The lights twinkled in the brisk evening, seeming pleasantly far-off. Dorian couldn’t help but smile as he climbed off the seat, even as he pulled off the helmet and looked at the mess of his hair in the camera on his phone.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, smile clearly evident in his voice.

Bull smiled back at him before he turned to open the seat of his motorcycle, where he had apparently stashed some things for a picnic of sorts.

“You’ve been so busy with school and work lately, I wanted to give you a relaxing night,” Bull answered. He spread a warm-looking blanket on the grass and pulled out a few tupperware containers and a large thermos.

“Normally I wouldn’t suggest dessert first, but I don’t want it to get cold,” he explained, gesturing for Dorian to sit. Dorian sat, cross-legged, and Bull handed him the thermos.

Dorian unscrewed the lid and was instantly surrounded by the warmth and comforting smells of Bull’s hot chocolate, something he had only heard about from the Chargers when he had finally met them.

“Chief takes his hot cocoa very seriously,” Krem had said, smirking. Dorian was inclined to believe him, seeing as he could smell cinnamon and other spices mixed in. He took a sip and hummed happily despite burning his tongue.

“It up to your standards, big guy?” Bull teased him. He sat gingerly next to Dorian, stretching out his bad knee.

Dorian nodded fervently. “What’s in here?”

Bull raised an eyebrow. “Hot cocoa? Figured you would be able to tell once you smelled it, let alone took a huge slurp.”

Dorian huffed. “That is _not_ what I meant.” He squawked as Bull curled a hand around his waist and pulled him backwards to rest against Bull’s chest.

“I’ll show you the recipe sometime,” Bull said softly against his ear. Dorian smiled and closed his eyes at his sudden proximity. “We can make it together, how’s that sound?”

Dorian chuckled, resting the hand that did not currently hold the thermos on Bull’s huge thigh. “It sounds excellent in theory, Amatus, but something tells me we might get distracted.”

Bull went quiet before Dorian realized exactly what he had said.

“Amatus?” Bull asked him.

Dorian swallowed. Things had been good between he and the Bull the last three months. He had worked on being more open, on telling Bull about his _feelings_ when they agreed to discuss things like that, and just generally accepting the changes in his life. There had been a lot of them lately. Cut off from his parents and home, feeling bereft at the loss of his only friend and the distance from his mentor and father figure, all while trying to cope with his first real _relationship._ Oh, and studying for the degree that had caused him to move from Tevinter in the first place, including loans and more work and other ways to pay for it now that his parents were not.

He had a full plate, and he slipped up and felt sad and empty quite often. Bull helped, though. He was excellent company, and a good distraction when he didn’t want to talk. The Chargers were a bit standoffish at first, but they had come around. The results of prolonged exposure, he was certain, but who was he to turn up his nose at new friends? They were good people, after all. Krem in particular was fun to argue with, and understood his homesickness despite how terrible Tevinter was.

Plus, he had finally managed to make small talk with people he had observed in the library or around campus. He had gotten into a few friendly arguments with Madame Vivienne de Fer, a member of the faculty, on the dangers of time magic and other areas of his research. He befriended an elf named Sera who turned out to be a mastermind at pranks. She worked in the cafe he frequented and made terrible cookies, which he dutifully tried when she offered them up despite knowing he would hate them. A scowling, dark-haired woman in the library even struck up a conversation with him once about the author Varric Tethras, and whether or not he agreed that his romance novels were surprisingly _good_ (he didn’t, but had promised the woman--Cassandra--he would try them even though he had heard they were all drivel. He had recommended some books to her in return, and they now had impromptu book dates every so often).

He had a life here, one that he was building for himself without the poisonous influence of his father or Tevinter. It was quite wonderful, honestly. He had never thought he would be able to have something like this. He had grown comfortable in his new role.

Which was probably why he had accidentally called Bull his beloved.

“Dorian?” Bull’s voice was so gentle, like he was afraid to spook Dorian out of his thoughts.

Strangely, Dorian didn’t feel scared, or instant regret at saying that out loud. It felt weirdly right, in fact.

Dorian turned slightly in Bull’s arms, smiling back at him. “Don’t know that one? I thought you had picked up some Tevene.”

Bull snorted. “Sure, but that’s not something I ever heard on Seheron.”

Dorian felt a pang in his chest at the mention of that place, and its significance to Bull, but he managed to glide past it. “You might have to ask Krem, then,” he said sweetly. He ran the tips of his fingers lightly against Bull’s cheek. “I’m sure he’ll have fun explaining that you.”

By the look on Bull’s face, Dorian thought he might already have an inkling of what it meant. “I bet, he will, _Kadan_ ,” he said smoothly.

Dorian smiled, feeling his cheeks heat up in an undignified blush. He turned back around, tucking his head neatly beneath Bull’s chin. Bull took the cocoa from him and they ate and drank in a comfortable silence, listening to the quiet evening turn into night.

“There isn’t a great place to see the stars out here,” Bull said after a time. “Not so close to the city, anyway. But I figured this was as good as we were gonna get. Plus, the city looks real nice from this hill.”

He almost sounded a little embarrassed. Dorian could take this opportunity to razz him about being a giant sap, tease him for wanting to do something as sickly sweet as _stargaze_ with his lover, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to poke at Bull’s soft spot, and make him feel anything like shame for wanting to be sweet to Dorian.

He knew now something of Bull’s struggles as well, see--something about the Qun and his men and hard choices he had been forced to make. Something about his years fighting on Seheron, and how he had lost the will to keep going, and had been reeducated because of it. He had no desire to make this man’s life any harder, this gentle, kind man, who had looked at him on the subway in the early morning and saw _something_ worth taking a second look at.

He saw something worthy in Bull, too, now. He hoped to prove himself deserving of Bull’s kindness and sweet gestures somehow. Any way he could. Proving himself did not include mocking Bull for his sweet, caring nature, the very parts of him that had made him Tal-Vashoth. He wanted to support Bull and nurture that piece of him, rather than make fun until he decided not to show it to Dorian.

He scoffed inwardly. _My, how things have changed._

“I think it’s a grand idea,” he said, much more softly than he had planned. He took Bull’s large scarred hand, missing two finger ends, and kissed the stubby tips. “I have always had an appreciation for romantic gestures.”

Bull laughed. His hand, still held near Dorian’s mouth, grasped his chin gently. He turned Dorian to look at him, thumb stroking at his bottom lip. “That so?”

“Yes,” Dorian admitted with a smirk. “But tell anyone and I will not be responsible for my actions.”

Bull grinned. “I might take my chances,” he said. “I tend to like your actions.”

Dorian sighed. “I’m not very good at doling out punishments, I suppose.”

“Nah,” Bull said, his expression tender. Dorian ducked his head as Bull smoothed a finger along his mustache.

“It’s much more fun to treat you,” Dorian whispered. He giggled as Bull drew his face closer, back twisted a bit awkwardly, to kiss his cheek. Dorian decided to make it easier on them both by turning to sit in his lap, their chests pressed together.

“Funny,” Bull teased. “I feel the same way.” He kissed Dorian sweetly, on the lips, then the nose, then his forehead. “You’re so _hot_ when I spoil you,” he growled, hands lowering suddenly to pinch Dorian’s rump.

He gasped. “Bull, that is _not_ sporting.”

“Never said I was one to play fair,” he laughed.

Dorian could not help but laugh too. He leaned forward, nuzzling their noses together, filled with fondness for this man.

“I suppose you never _did_ say you played fair,” he admitted on a breathy sigh. “But I suppose I don’t either.”

It was funny, that--all this talk of not playing fair and yet he still felt like he had won.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This started with an idea for Bull owning a flower shop and also a motorcycle in a modern setting and turned into a giant 15k+ monster. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! (Please let me know if I forgot to tag anything!)


End file.
